Bono's eyes squeezed
closed tightly and his black hair fell into his face,
clinging to his forehead. He could feel the sweat under
his shirt, running down his back...the rattling in his
jaw from Larry's heavy bass drum, the incessant chiming
of Edge's guitar...the raw thump of Adam's bass.
He couldn't do much, Bono had always felt, but what he
could do he would do with all he had. He knew that U2
lived for that moment, that live, exploding moment, and
he knew that moment was right now. Bono didn't think -
no, Bono KNEW there wasn't a hope in hell of him pulling
this one off alone.
Bono turned around, facing Larry, his back to the crowd.
Bono was breathless, overwhelmed by the song. When he
turned to Larry he was surprised not to see the top of
Larry's head as he usually did, but instead found Larry
to be looking right back at him, worry spread across his
face. Edge and Adam may not have noticed that Bono was
drained of all inspiration, but Larry could apparently
tell. Bono walked toward the drum kit, toward Larry,
mumbling the words to 'Bad' halfheartedly and feeling
like his legs were about to give out.
Larry always sat in the back, hiding behind his drums,
much how Bono had come to hide behind his shades. Bono
understood why Larry was like that; it was easier than
putting yourself out there, but easier wasn't always the
right path. Bono always felt that Larry never felt
"IT" like Bono did. Bono had had a nagging
feeling since they started the band twenty-three years
ago that Larry never got the full experience playing live
because Larry never took that terrifying chance of making
a scene, making a louder noise, and standing out from his
bandmates. All the others did it at one point or another
every night. Bono the most, Edge often enough and even
Adam would come out of his shell to shine through on
songs like 'New Year's Day'. Larry...well, Larry didn't
usually go all out for extra attention...ANY attention,
truthfully. Larry never put himself out there all the
way. Bono was about to ask him to.
He stared at Larry, blinking away the sweat rolling into
his eyes, trying to desperately communicate his plea. He
was losing it; losing his grip on the song. He was on the
verge of having a bad night and watching the whole show
go down the drain.
Larry stared back at him for what must have only been a
few moments, though they felt like an eternity to Bono.
I'm falling, Lawrence, Bono thought, PLEASE pick me
up...I need PASSION, I need INSPIRATION. Are you willing
to poke out of your shell and lend a hand to your best
mate before he dies in front of twenty-two thousand
people?
In an instant, Larry looked away, going back to his
drums, and Bono's shoulders sank. He could - or wouldn't
- do it. He was leaving Bono to pick up himself. But Bono
already knew there was no way he could. The rest of the
show was going to be shit. Bono slowly turned around to
face his fans, his face betraying him by showing the
great disappointment he felt in his friend and in
himself. He cherished the few moments before he would
have to struggle with the next dreaded verse.
Then without warning, everything shifted. The drums
lifted, changed sonically, moving up and out, spreading
over Bono like a warm blanket. Bono whirled around to see
Larry's head down as he pounded the drums relentlessly,
his face proving him to be in extremely deep
concentration. He was sweating freely and bouncing up and
down in his seat to the bass drum, practically standing
up, two things Larry hardly ever did. Bono's mouth
twitched at one end with a hidden smile and Larry glanced
up at him quickly, his crystal blue eyes telling Bono
what he already knew: "I'm doing this for you."
Bono grinned, the passion and conviction in Larry's
playing touching a place deep in Bono soul, a part of him
that would forever be Larry's number one fan. Bono could
feel the spiritual move within himself, could feel his
mood being lifted just by that one thought: "I'm
doing this for you."
He was overjoyed by the loyalty and compassion of a
wonderful friendship with an equally wonderful person,
someone who had been there for him any time he had ever
needed him. How could Bono have even believed that Larry
wouldn't pull through for him? Bono rose up and sang like
he hadn't sung in months, his deepest feelings bursting
through as he emoted:
"If I could...you know I would...If I could, I would
let it go...this
desperation...dislocation...separation...condemnation,
revelation, in temptation, I-SO-LATION, DE-SO-LATION, LET
IT GO...and so FADE AWAY..."
Edge looked up, startled at Larry's sudden ferocity and
Bono's out burst of emotion. The crowd roared approval
and sang along, nearly drowning out Bono. Adam looked at
Larry and smirked in genuine surprise as Larry pulled the
rest of the band into repeating part of the song,
widening it in length. Every time Larry would push
harder, Bono would retaliate, singing louder and clearer
and with even more emotion than before. Edge looked at
Adam, amazed, as if to say, "What the hell is going
on here?" Adam smiled and shrugged back, as if to
say, "Who cares? It works!"
Larry threw the band into the instrumental ending and
Bono took off down the heart ramp until he got to the
tip, where he stopped unconsciously, without even
thinking about it. He half expected himself to keep on
running, right into the crowd. He paused, gazing around
the hundreds...THOUSANDS of outstretched hands
surrounding him, and then turned back to his band,
kneeling down as 'Bad' ended with a crash.
"Larry Mullen Junior!" Bono said breathlessly
into his mic, motioning with his hand back toward Larry
as loud cheering swelled up from every direction.
"...The best mate in the world. Thank you,
Lawrence."
*~*~*~*
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